Rekindle
by Shards of Night
Summary: After running away from WindClan, Breezepelt and Nightcloud find themselves looking for a new start. And what better place than in an isolated SkyClan? A place where, no cat knows of your past and the crimes you've committed?
1. Prologue

**Hello, and welcome to a new story of mine! I'm excited for this one, actually :D Verrry excited!**

**Just as a note, I LOVE Hollyleaf, Jayfeather, Nightcloud, and Breezepelt. I hope I don't offend anyone with how Breezepelt describes any of them; this is Breezepelt/Nightcloud (later on), and we know their opinions on Leafpool and her kits :)**

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**Prologue**

The rain poured down upon the moors; in the distance, he could feel a vibration of smoke pilling from the trees, trailing through the rain drops and over to the lean toms nose. The blood that had been spilt during the battle between the Clan's and the Dark Forest had ended abruptly; he watched as the ghost cats disappeared, anguished or exhausted, some almost dying as they vanished.

His gaze traveled from his recovering Clanmates, and to the dark forest that lay in the distance; he saw smoke being pushed down from the sky by the rain, with the faint orange embers glowing through the dense trees.

His amber eyes began to narrow, slowly, as he thought of the _traitors_ that lived among that foolish and discombobulated Clan, as they called themselves. He knew that one was dead; Hollyleaf had been slain by Hawkfrost. _Lucky tom. _

The black tom had Lionblaze in his grasp; the golden tabby knew that he would've been beaten, if hadn't been for _him._

He felt his claws slide out of their sockets; they gripped the damp and soiled earth, burning fury pulsing through his veins, sharper than any fang. That stupid tom who called himself a father had ruined _everything_! He had stomped on the tom's mother's heart, and had the _audacity_ to claim that it was Nightcloud's fault for it!

_Breathe. Keep calm, Breezepelt. Don't lose your head; Nightcloud'll need me more than ever now. Crowfeather won't take her away from me. _He blinked, shaking his head. The water droplets flew from his fur, scattering on the grass around him. He looked over to the side, frowning when he saw red-pink liquid mingled in amongst it; only then did he begin to feel the intense and burning pain of his wounds.

Breezepelt grunted, turning away from the top of the moor hill; he watched as the WindClan cats that had lived the battle limped away from the bloody grounds; he saw Whitetail helping Owlwhisker from the clutches of a thorn bush – he could only guess that the brown tabby was too weak to pull himself from it.

Every pawstep that he took felt as if his pads were on fire; the dirt from the ground pieced the open wounds, and the small pebbles hit in _just _the right spot, causing him to quickly draw his paw away from the grass.

_Great StarClan, who knew the Dark Forest cats were holding back on us all this time? _He frowned, shrugging away grief as he saw Weaslefur laying on his side, Swallowtail and Onestar hovering over him, with Kestrelflight bounding over the hill after them.

The pale ginger tom was breathing heavily; he didn't know whether or not he was dying, or just too hurt to get up, but from the look on that gash on his side…

"Are you okay?"

He didn't have the energy to jolt when he heard his friend, Heathertail, meow from behind him; he turned, looking at the pretty light brown tabby's face. Light blue eyes set in a pretty brown face looked at him, concernedly.

_Surprised you're not running in WindClan checking on Lionblaze. _He fought the urge to roll his eyes as he turned slowly back, noticing the general concern in her eyes. _But, then again, you claim to be over him._

"I'm fine," he grunted, lashing his tail.

The rain continued to drip around him; he felt its soothing caress as it dribbled through his thin black fur, soaking his aching wounds and becoming a small remedy. Thunder growled in the distance, the graying sky not letting up in its downpour.

Heathertail suddenly appeared beside him, causing him to jolt and a whole new ripple of pain spreading across his shoulders. "You've been acting weird lately," she murmured.

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure,"

"I'm serious." Her tone had changed; it was no longer pondering and shy-like, instead, it was more forceful, a little harder than usual.

Breezepelt pricked his ears, but he only sniffed, shaking his head. "And I'm being serious when I say I'm fine." He attempted to shrug her off, but the she-cat only continued to stay by his side, unfazed by his stubborn exterior.

Heathertail sighed, withdrawing her former tone. "You disappeared during the battle," she meowed, changing the subject of the conversation. "And more of the Dark Forest warriors showed up during the fight. Crowfeather and Nightcloud were gone too," she continued.

He flinched at the mention of his mother and father; he hadn't known Nightcloud had disappeared too, but perhaps she could've gone to lurk around, trying to find Leafpool. _Maybe she gave her a few scars too, serve that she-cat right in the-_

"You should've stayed in your own territory," she growled, and, despite the fact that Breezepelt had his back to her, he could almost hear the frown in her voice. "I know that you went into the forest."

They were nearing the WindClan camp, as he noticed. The rain was letting up; as the drizzle died, the more cold it felt and earthier it smelled. He watched as Boulderfur, his former apprentice, padded over to Furzepelt, both cats keeping their voices low as they padded toward the camp.

Breezepelt turned his focus back to Heathertail, who was promptly awaiting his answer. "What I was doing there is none of your concern, Heathertail. We won, didn't we? Why would it matter where I was during one point in the battle?"

Heathertail turned; the light brown she-cat padded ahead of him, her tail lashing quietly from side to side as she padded after the WindClan cats. He watched as her shape began to grow smaller and smaller, cocking his head to the side as she looked back over her shoulder and said something inaudible to him.

He wasn't sure, but it sounded like "Figure out where your loyalties lie!"

.

.

He frowned as he heard his mother bickering with his father; it was not out of the norm, but he knew that this fight was worse than the others.

"I heard you talking to that-that _she-cat_! What does she have that I don't?"

_You're far better than Leafpool, Mother. _He frowned as he heard his father yell back at her – "I loved her! I gave up being a warrior for her; we were going to run away together! When was the last time that you did something like that for me?" – knowing that he could do nothing to stop the constant fighting. _You deserve better than Crowfeather; every cat thinks so. All that stupid tom has ever done for us was caused fighting and trouble. We don't need him._

"W-what have I done for _you_? I took you in as a mate; I gave birth to our _kits_! Do you think any other WindClan she-cat would be that kind? That generous?"

_We shouldn't have to be subjected to the stares we gain as a part of that mangled bloodline; we should go back to what we used to be! Stupid, stupid Hollyleaf! _

_Finally, for a moment, I thought my father could care about me; he could forget about Leafpool and move on with my mother. I thought that maybe I could train with Brokenstar and Hawkfrost in the Dark Forest, become the best warrior that I could be._

_But _they _had to ruin that, didn't they?_

"Oh sure, we'll go with that old excuse! Just because we became mates doesn't make you some type of sweet queen!"

_We should run._

"I can't believe you."

_Become rogues, live on our own. Than you can find a better mate, and perhaps I could find a life with me as the warrior that I craved to be. _

"I think we're done anyway."

_But I promise that, no matter what, I will always love you, Mother._

"We're through, Crowfeather."

.

.

He was sleeping soundly; he felt his back rise and fall with each breath soundly, naturally. The nest around him felt comfortable, warm – even though most WindClan cats indulged in sleeping outside, especially on this night with this victory, he turned his back to it.

What had the stars done? Caused his mother and him a life of pain. Their so-called 'warrior ancestors' had only stood by and watched as their lives were destroyed in front of them; they only came to help with the Clans were in danger.

"Breezepelt," It was no more than a whisper; soft and soothing, like he remembered from his kit days, when his mother would tell him tales from the distant lineage of WindClan, of the Old Forest, where the forest smelt beautiful and the river was bubbling.

"Breezepelt!" This was only a little louder, but it caused him to slowly crack open his eyes, blinking groggily as the light from outside trailed inside of the warriors den.

"Hmm?" he mumbled, licking a paw slowly and drawing it over his eyes. "What's happening?" He yawned, focusing his blurry vision.

Nightcloud was in front of him; her green eyes were slightly troubling, he noted, as she stared down at him, a mixed expression of fear and joy.

"Get up," she murmured, nosing him to his paws.

Breezepelt stood, his bones feeling numb and felt as if they weighed more than a boulder. "W-why?" he asked through another yawn, blinking exhausted amber eyes as Nightcloud pressed her muzzle against his flank, pushing him forward.

They stepped over the few warriors that curled inside of the den, the small pathway that had been made before paw making their journey into the center of the camp easier. Breezepelt watched as his mother turned away from the fresh-kill pile; her fur was only just visible in the purple-black skies faint light.

As he noticed from a small upturn of his head, the glittery stars were much more visible tonight; sparkly, glittering. _I can hardly believe we won that battle, though. Tigerstar, Hawkfrost, and Brokenstar are amazing warriors; how could they have been beaten? _

There were no guards tonight; Onestar must've noted how exhausted everyone would've been from the battle – of all Clan's. Nightcloud's tail was draped over his shoulders, and despite his tough and stubborn exterior, he didn't mind it when his mother was guiding him – she was all he had left.

He began to wake up a bit more as he realized how deep into the territory they were going; they weren't heading in the direction of the lake, nor near the ThunderClan territory. He saw the faint glow of twoleg nests as they began heading behind the Clans' territory – they were nearing the Twoleg place.

"Are we leaving?" he asked, almost hopefully. His eyes widened, his grogginess leaving his body as the enticing feeling of fleeing the Clan's became more and more real. "The Clans, I mean. Are we actually going?"

His mother allowed a small smile to curl across her muzzle; she paused from walking and pressed her muzzle on his ear. "Yes."

Suddenly, for the first time in moons, Breezepelt felt a new taste in the breeze's that overtook their Clan's territory.

He tasted freedom.

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**I hope everyone enjoyed that! R it's greatly appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 1

**Thank you for reviewing! Really, it's greatly appreciated.**

**The first chapter is mostly about the two bonding rather than actually heading to SkyClan; they hold no information or guidance about the lost Clan, anyway. **

**As you may be able to tell, it's Breezepelt, than Nightcloud. But, later on, there's a chance of another POV on what's going on with the Clan's after they fled.**

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**Chapter One**

She didn't know how long she had been leading her son.

Her tail, draped across the lean black tom's shoulders, had lost the urge to flick long ago; it lay limply on his back now. The soft, homely moor grass that once was something that she had woken up to every morning had now disappeared. It was replaced by hard dirt - moist and pebbly.

Breezepelt's amber eyes were no longer as tired and sleepy as they had been when she had first woken him up; they were filled with a new, brighter fire, like burning an ember of a flame. His pawsteps were becoming a lighter, and his muscles were propelling him forward.

She turned away from her son, and looked to the place that they were currently walking in; she saw a dark, barren landscape, dead trees lining the sides of the pathway, ghostly and skeletal. A frown crossed her muzzle as she tilted her head to the sky; unlike the Clan's territory, the stars were scattered here – faded and almost invisible to her.

_Perhaps all of the stars collided over the lake to show us how proud they are, _She smiled slightly, but it was almost forced. _All of the ones we lost… Not just from our Clan, but from the others, too. _

A sadistic smile curled on her lips; she felt her son shift beneath her tail's hold, and from the corner of her eye, she saw his questionable amber gaze resting on her. _Hollyleaf died there, sadly not from either of our claws, but, alas, it's still a victory that I don't intend to let go anytime soon, not as long as I know Leafpool and her messed up sons are still alive._

"Nightcloud," She turned as she heard her name, looking over at Breezepelt. "Where are we going?"

The question hung in the air for a moment; she herself was almost as unsure as her kit. The identical-colored black cats walked in the silence of the barren land that was behind their Clan's territories, uncertainty mingling in with their excitement.

Nightcloud bit her bottom lip; she watched as the shadows from the dead trees flickered across the hard-packed dirt, only a shade darker than her pelt.

Finally, she looked over at her kit, pressing her muzzle to his ear. She took it away, smiling softly at the tom.

"Somewhere better."

She didn't need to look back; she could feel the warmth coming from his fur, the scent of excitement warranting off more emotion that a peek at his facial expression could've provided her. Her sadistic smile turned into a softer one, her green eyes no longer boring into the blackness ahead of them.

_I'd be happy too, if I were him. We've lived in a Clan that sneaks glares at us, we've been persecuted, and we've been betrayed. I know that bringing us away from this Clan is the best thing for the both of us right now._

Nightcloud finally allowed her tail to move; she removed it from his back and allowed it to lay limply behind her, swaying gently in the small breeze that blew through the barren tree branches.

The moist dirt felt cold beneath her paws; the further into the territory the mother and son went, the wet and cold the ground beneath them became.

She felt Breezepelt shiver next to her, and she couldn't help but allow her haunches to rise as a chilly wind tore through her thin, WindClan fur.

"It's so cold here," he murmured, and she could almost hear the gritted teeth that he had said those words through.

"I know," she sighed, brushing her tail-tip against his flank.

She felt him murmur something to himself, but she didn't indulge on what he had said; she learned that, as Breezepelt's mother, space was needed for the lean tom in order for him to keep a calm personality. She smiled fondly, but it quickly turned into a low growl.

_Just like his…father. _

She turned her head to the other direction, ignoring the stare that she felt boring into her fur. _He doesn't matter to me now. _She decided with a mute snarl. _He's only a memory._

Nightcloud turned her head back, tilting it up to survey the bleak night sky. Rays of sunlight were beginning to weave into the dark blue ocean of sky; peach and gold-purple were coming from the horizon.

_We should rest, _She glanced at her son; they had been traveling for who knew how long, and she was just beginning to see his eyelids drooping. _We've traveled long enough; they won't look this far out for us. _

"We should get some rest," Nightcloud murmured gently to Breezepelt, watching as he jolted and looked over at her.

"Why?" he asked, looking eager now more than tired. "Shouldn't we be going faster? They could catch up to us-"

"They won't look this far out," Nightcloud cut off her kit, giving him a soft side look. "This is a barren land – I'd think that they'd look out into the other Clan's territory before out here." She tilted her head up to the dimly glowing sky, shivering as another wave of cool air blew past. "I'm not sure where we are myself, Breezepelt," she murmured, flattening her ears to her head.

She stopped, suddenly noticing the exhaustion creeping through her legs. Nightcloud turned to her son, nudging him away from the long, bleak pathway.

"There's a hole in that cedar over there," she mewed, flicking her ear to the dead cedar tree.

The old, almost-black tree had skeletal branches extending from its trunk; Nightcloud pointed her muzzle to the egg-like hole in the bottom of the tree.

_I hope that the space underneath that tree is big enough for the two of us, _She thought with a disdainful frown. _If not…I'll just sleep outside, than. I'd rather that than have Breezepelt sleep out here._

Breezepelt sighed, the black tom looking toward the dead cedar. "Alright, alright."

Nightcloud allowed him to go first; Breezepelt's dark tail-tip disappeared into the tree's hole quickly. She blinked, poking her nose into the dark, warm inside of the dead tree; the sweet smell of rotting wood filled her nostrils.

"I think there's room for you in here too, Nightcloud," She heard Breezepelt's voice echoing off of the wooden walls of the tree hollow, glowing amber eyes blinking up at her. "It might be a little cramped, but…"

Nightcloud smiled, before snaking into the dark hallow. Her whiskers brushed against the wall of their new, temporary den, and she felt dead moss crumble beneath her paws.

She felt a shiver of fear as a realization hit her, flicking her tail-tip over the floor. _Perhaps this was a foxes den or a badgers before we came here, _She blinked away the ghostly visions of a reddish-colored fox curled in the moss, dried blood from cats lining it's sharp, white fangs and lips. She sniffed the air; she couldn't detect any alien scents beside their own. _But I don't smell anything; if there was, the animal left long ago._

Nightcloud let out a contented mew as she settled herself amongst the dead moss, soft leaves, newly placed by something – she was too tired to investigate – resting against her belly. She nudged a twig away from her and Breezepelt; it clanked outside of their new den.

Breezepelt laid a few pawsteps away from her, probably because of his 'I'm a warrior now' façade that he attempted to play with her.

The exhaustion finally began to claw at her eyelids, dragging them down and bringing the once noble WindClan she-cat to rest.

.

.

When she awoke, sunlight had already begun to creep into their den, shinning amongst the dead moss and leaves. Breezepelt was still asleep; the black tom had his tail covering his eyelids. She mewed, getting to her paws groggily and stretching.

Nightcloud tilted her head up to survey the sky; it was a pale blue, cream and purple at the horizon from the former dawn. She tasted the air; there was still that cool chill that she could scent, but faint traces of something rotten, like the disgusting smells of the Thunderpath's that laid on the lake territory.

She turned her head from the sky and back to Breezepelt, watching as his eyelids fluttered open and the former WindClan warrior stood, stretching his spine. After finishing, he shook out his fur, sending a few leaves that had stuck onto his pelt scattering on the dead moss.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked, padding toward her son and bending her muzzle down, licking down a few loose strands of fur.

Breezepelt grunted, shaking away her tongue. "Fine," he grunted shortly, his tail flicking back and forth in agitation.

Nightcloud blinked, saying nothing. She bit her bottom lip, nodding, and turned toward the entrance to their small den.

_I think he had a bad dream, _She could repress that motherly aspect of her, despite the fact that her kit was a full-ledged warrior now. _Or was. We're rogues now; I guess I just forgot that. _

She heard a small rumbling, and turned to see Breezepelt back in his laying position, licking down the agitated fur strands on his belly. The formerly respected WindClan cat growled, flicking his tail and beginning to head out of the tree.

"I'm hungry," he muttered, climbing out of the den.

Nightcloud bent her head so that the sharp brambles that hung down from the branches of the trees wouldn't poke her eyes. She followed Breezepelt, standing up and blinking as he tasted the air before her, amber eyes tracing the barren land for any sign of prey.

"I scented the air earlier," she informed him, watching as the black tom turned his head toward her with narrowed eyes. "Can't you smell that rotten smell too?" she asked, lifting her muzzle once again and grabbing a sniff.

_It _still _smells like that disgusting Thunderpath. _Nightcloud frowned, her paws shuffling on the cold, dirt flooring. _Perhaps we're near the Twolegplace – the one where the cats who went on the Great Journey said they found that Purdy cat at. _Nightcloud walked a few paces forward, slipping around a dead bracken bush. _I hope not._

Breezepelt bounded after her, muscles visible in his legs underneath his thin fur. "Unfortunately, I can," he growled, twitching his whiskers. "Maybe we're near a Twolegplace." He added with a affronted growl.

Nightcloud sighed, allowing her gaze to travel up toward as far as her eyes could process, to the ghost-like mist that crawled around the dark brown tree roots.

"I was afraid of that," she confessed. Nightcloud looked over to Breezepelt, flicking her ear toward the lighter-colored pathway in the dead land. "But we should go that way anyway. The farther we are from the lake, the better."

.

.

Despite the fact that she had slept only a few hours ago, Nightcloud's paw pads were just beginning to ache once again, a spot in one of her hind paws worse than the others.

She glanced at Breezepelt once again, watching as her son flicked away a fly from his ear, whiskers quivering as his nose continually sniffed. She frowned at him, a sigh building up in her throat – something that she had felt she did too much of as of late.

"We'll be able to tell if there's a rabbit, Breezepelt," she informed him, flattening her ears as her kit curled his lip back to reveal a snarl.

"I don't care," he spat bitterly, shocking her. "I'm starving, Nightcloud. We just fought the Dark Forest yesterday – _the biggest battle of our lives_! I didn't eat at _all_." He snapped, unsheathing his claws and pricking them into the ground.

She opened her mouth to call her son into obedience, but she slowly closed her mouth. _He's tired, that's all. _She decided, turning away from Breezepelt. _He watched his own father cradle those _disgraces_ to the warrior code – we both did. _

Nightcloud turned her head back, watching as Breezepelt walked a little quicker ahead of her.

"I think I smell something!" he told her, possibly picking up on her questionable gaze. Breezepelt bounded ahead a few strides, and tasted the air once again.

Nightcloud bounded forward, standing by his side and sniffing the air. She tilted her head to the side as she smelt something warm – she couldn't tell what it was since it held no distinguishable traces, but it was _something_.

She tensed as Breezepelt licked his muzzle, grinning hungrily, and preparing to bound forward. The black she-cat watched as her son launched himself off, running toward the source of the smell. The prickle of fear waved over her at the thought of some fox or badger waiting for her kit, crushing him in its massive jaws.

"Wait!" she called after him, watching as the black tom bounded more and more toward the ghostly mist, toward a foreign world. "Breezepelt, come back!" she caterwauled, her paws trembling.

Nightcloud tore after her son, the ground beneath her paws like a feather at the speed she was going at. Her tail bobbed up and down like a sparrow's wing, her head lowering as she propelled herself toward her speeding son.

_That mousebrain! _She thought with a mute hiss, narrowing her eyes. _He can't run away from me, not when we don't know where we are! This isn't WindClan territory – who knows what's out here! Badgers, twolegs, dogs, foxes, fox traps, rats, rogues… _

"Breezepelt, stop!" she yowled, more urgently and harsher than before.

Breezepelt's tail disappeared behind an old pine tree, a dark silhouette of a cat moving behind the thick sheet of mist that covered the air around the dead land.

_I know he's hungry, but he can't disappear from my sight like _that_! Is he trying to get himself killed?_

Nightcloud padded quickly and fretfully through the mist, her eyes wide at the thought of her only living son being torn apart by badgers or foxes, while she stood and did nothing to save him. She blinked back her fear, raising her muzzle and tasting the air, trying to find her kit's scent through the unknown territory.

"Breezepelt, you will be in a world of trouble when I find you!" she hissed, scratching the ground with sharp claws in her fright.

She was rigid as she tasted a new smell, one that made her pelt shake almost to the core. _Blood!_

"B-Breezepelt!" She called out, fear making her tone more of a wail rather than a sharp call. Nightcloud's head snapped from side to side as she ran forward, trying to find the kit that she had brought on this journey away from the Clan that persecuted them.

As she ran full speed forward, she felt her paw stab against the corner of a sharp stone. Pain pierced through her paw, and she felt her spine fur stand almost on end at the excruciating feeling that made its way up to her shoulders, like lighting.

She whimpered, attempting to ignore the horrible feeling, and limped forward on three paws, her green eyes wider than they possibly had ever been.

_If he dies…I can't live with myself. He means _everything _to me. That's my kit, the only one in that litter that survived…he was named for the breezes, because they're so strong in WindClan territory; his name suits him best. _

Nightcloud raised her muzzle again, tasting the misted air. And, suddenly, it was there again; Breezepelt's warm scent, abundant. But the blood scent was almost as strong – she was getting closer to him.

"I'm coming, Breezepelt!" she called, her voice feeling no more than a whisper.

She bounced over a slither of tree bark, the ground beneath her paws feeling muddy and colder than it had back by their nightly den. Nightcloud's ears pricked as she heard a hiss, and her tail flicked, the night-black she-cat leaping through the dead bushes.

Her claws dug into the slippery ground to halt her as she caught sight of two dark shapes, shrouded by the sheet of fog, tumbling amongst the dark trees, bits of mud sprinkling on the visible ground before her.

Nightcloud gasped, shock exploding on her face, mixing in with her fear. Her shock turned to anger – anger at the cat attacking her kit – and the black she-cat allowed her claws to slash at the earth as she launched forward, teeth baring in a snarl.

Breezepelt was slashing at a reddish-brown tabby's fur, blood pooling from his wounds. The tabby tom snarled, showing off his sharp fangs and sinking them into the black tom's shoulder.

Her son yowled with pain, narrowing his amber eyes and clawing at the tom cat's belly with unsheathed hind claws, watching in satisfaction as white fur from the rogues underside fluttered off of his body and into the mud.

Nightcloud felt an overwhelming sensation of fear prickling off of her pelt; she flattening her ears to her head and let out one of the shrillest cries she had ever mustered:

"_Stop!" _

Breezepelt's head immediately snapped up, claws in mid-scratch, still underneath the other tom's belly. The black tom snapped his head back to the rouge, hissing, kicking him off – weakly, as she noted fearfully.

The reddish tabby rolled in the mud, dirt and blood caking his short fur. The rogue hissed at her son, who was busy shaking himself off and regenerating himself with a terrifying stance.

Nightcloud ran shakily to her kit, nosing through his fur and allowing her tongue to curl out, licking through his fur.

"Are you okay?" she asked, flattening her ears to her head.

Breezepelt gave her a small side glare, but continued to stare at the rogue. "Fine," he spat.

Nightcloud suddenly felt the anger prickle through her fur once again, and her head snapped to the rogue, the defensive side coming out of her.

"What is your problem?" she demanded, angrily.

The rogue rolled his eyes, shaking out his fur and beginning to walk away from the two rogues. "Maybe you and your son should find another territory to bounce around in – this one's taken," he suggested, but not kindly.

Nightcloud curled her lip back, but Breezepelt cut her off from snapping back at the tom.

"Why would you want some dull territory? You must be a stupid rogue," he growled, smirking at the rogues narrowed eyes and scowl.

Instead of snarling back a retort or hissing at him to be silent, the tabby just laughed, shaking his head at the young warrior.

"You must be a new one," he growled. "This territory is near those Clan's territory; you realize that the Clan's eat plentiful prey almost every day, right?"

_More than you do. _Nightcloud thought with a shiver.

"Look, as far as I'm concerned, rogues look out for themselves," the tom told them, turning his back to the two black cats and padding off. "The ones in pairs or groups are the first to become the crazy types."

Nightcloud frowned. _What does he know? Breezepelt and I are on the run; we promised to never go back._


End file.
